William Phillips (email: healphil@yahoo.com) has taught in the US, Saudi Arabia, and
Japan. He has written/presented on such topics as women
in American musicals, AIDS education in Japan, and
teaching film criticism in Japanese EFL.

Louise Heal (email: healphil@yahoo.com) has taught in the UK, France, and Japan.
She has published or spoken on TheatreSports and the use
of drama, literature, and film in the EFL classroom as
well as Austen on film.

Emma doubted the truth of this sentiment. She had a
great idea that people who had extensive grounds
themselves cared very little for the extensive grounds of
any body else . . . .Emma (273)

"Isnt my house classic? The columns date
all the way back to 1972." Cher--Clueless

This consideration focuses on the
adaptations of Emma that are readily available on video.
The intention here is not to weigh into the controversy that has
raged since 1902 over the relative merit of film adaptations in
general. We recommend the works of Boyum along with Giddings,
Selby, and Wensley for their comprehensive and accessible
discussions of the adaptation controversy and the contrasting
capabilities of film and prose as narrative forms. The
controversy notwithstanding, some reference to critical stance
seems warranted. The assumption is that we address an Emma-familiar
audience. The point of view that has been most influential is
that of Neil Sinyard, who sets out three qualities by which he
believes screen adaptations of novels should be judged:

It does seem to me that the great screen adaptations
are the ones that go for the spirit rather than the
letter of the text; or exploit a unique affinity between
the personalities of the original writer and the present
film-maker; or use the camera to interpret and not simply
illustrate the tale.(Sinyard x)

Sinyard sees film adaptations of novels as a species of
critical essay in that they select, delete, compress, and offer
preferred alternatives among other critical activities. In that
light, he looks for an adaptation to "bring the novels to
vivid visual and dramatic life." At the same time, good
adaptation is "not afraid to kick the novels around, to take
liberties, . . . go for intensity of illumination more than a
shapeless inclusiveness" (Sinyard 171). Given this
framework, the discussion here examines the four adaptations in
terms of one principal question: In what way do elements of any
particular adaptation cause us to re-engage in a dialogue with
the novel?

Extensive Grounds and Classic Columns

It is in no way surprising to suggest that Emma is similar to
her great rival, Mrs. Elton. Certainly Emma is less abrasive and
better behaved, and Emma learns and grows while Mrs. Elton does
not. However, the Emma who, early in their relationship,
announces to Harriet Smith, "Fortune I do not want;
employment I do not want; consequence I do not want . . .
" (84), is not so very different in one respect of
character from a Mrs. Elton who would say to Emma upon their
second meeting, "Blessed with so many resources within
myself, the world was not necessary to me"
(276). A fair number of the elements in the litany of negatives
that Emma has already applied to Mrs. Elton upon this occasion
could well be applied to Emma: "extremely well satisfied
with herself, and thinking much of her own importance; . . . that
all her notions were drawn from one set of people, and one style
of living; that if not foolish, she was ignorant . . . "
(272). Let us examine the four films in relation to this
observation about the character of Emma.

All three of the "period" adaptations portray the
first meetings between Emma and Mrs. Elton in ways that warrant
the claim of one-sidedness. They display the build-up of Mrs.
Eltons distressing manner, Emmas increasing
irritation with her, and Emmas ultimate "Insufferable
woman!" response, which Austen presents as a private
monologue (279). In all three, however, we are deprived of clues
to the similarities between these two women.

The Glenister/Constanduros (1972) production chooses to
exclude the wonderful line about "extensive grounds."
The discussion of the similarity between Maple Grove and
Hartfield does take place, although the setting has been changed
to the vicarage and Harriet Smith is in the scene. Mrs.
Eltons total focus on Emma and her neglect of Harriet to
the point of being ill-mannered are not lost on Emma who is
clearly building toward the "Insufferable woman!"
explosion, delivered to Mr. Knightley in the next scene.

The Lawrence/Davies (1997) film preserves Austens
Hartfield setting but adds Harriet Smith to the scene. The
dialogue is virtually word for word from Austen when Mrs. Elton
speaks of people with "extensive grounds" being pleased
with anything "in the same style." Actress Lucy
Robinsons portrayal of Mrs. Elton with a suggested Somerset
accent whose heavy post-vocalic "r" (perhaps intended
to remind viewers of certain American accents) certainly helps
establish a growing irritation in the viewer parallel to the same
irritation that is amply shown in Kate Beckinsales
portrayal of Emma. This scene ends with a jump cut to Emmas
"Insufferable woman!" outburst, delivered in this case
to Mrs. Weston.

McGraths Emma (1996) preserves the Hartfield
setting of this encounter and, like the novel, does not have
Harriet Smith around. McGraths repetition of the phrase
"extensive grounds" to replace "in the same
style" may be one of the few improvements on the source that
can be claimed by this film. The delivery and timing of Juliet
Stevenson in a brilliant performance as Mrs. Elton are unrivaled
in the other films and in this one, unfortunately, not matched in
the scenes of this particular encounter by Gwyneth Paltrows
Emma. Emmas growing irritation does become apparent (if too
sweet in Paltrows performance) and the "Insufferable
woman" sentiment follows, here delivered to Harriet Smith.

In sum, none of the period adaptations adequately recognizes
that to some degree Mrs. Elton is a reflection of Emmas
character. In none of these three filmsin this or in any of
the subsequent encounters between Emma and Mrs. Eltondo we
get interior monologue, behavior, or speech that provides very
much in the way of clues to a potential similarity between the
women.

The opposite is true of Amy Heckerlings 1995
"teen-flick" Clueless, by now well established
as a contemporary adaptation of Emma. The fact that Jane
Austen is not credited in the Heckerling film may be one of its
chief faults. Heckerling herself told a seminar of film students
that the structure of Clueless is all to be found in
Austen (AFI Online). A few of the obvious character
parallels should be mentioned for purposes of discussion:
Cher/Emma; Chers father, Mel/Mr. Woodhouse; Josh/Mr.
Knightley; Tai/Harriet; Christian/Frank; Elton/Mr. Elton;
Amber/Mrs. Elton, Travis/Robert Martin. Heckerling has created
what we would like to term an "alphabet puzzle
approach" to her treatment of plot in adapting Emma
(see Emma, 347). Events in the story are divided up and
rearranged in a kind of image anagram for the Emma-familiar
viewer to solve. To locate themes parallel to those in Emma,
viewers must rearrange some events to master the puzzle. Early in
the film, there is a brief scene in which we follow Cher home. As
Cher drives into the forecourt of her Beverly Hills home, the
first person narrator (Cher herself) delivers the
"classic" line cited at the beginning of this piece. It
is followed upon her entrance into the house by Chers
proudly showing her "98" in geometry to the portrait of
her dead mother. The whole picture seems to illuminate the pride
in home and self reflected in the novels narrative passages
mentioned above. Probably the drivenote the
"glimpse of a fine large tree"
(273)and the architectural details of the Horowitz house,
resembling as they do the "sweep" and Palladian/Greek
Revival features of many fine houses built throughout the
eighteenth century in England, are no accident. Cher even tells
us that the columns date from 1972, the year of the
Glenister/Constanduros film.

Cher sees herself as superior to Amber in taste and manners.
Her references to Ambers "designer impostor
perfume" and her looks as "full on Monet. . . .
Its like the paintings, see? From far away its OK,
but up close its a big old mess" seem to us to be
clear allusions to Mrs. Eltons under-bred finery, among
other characteristics. In addition, Heckerling has left a trail
of clues to the similarity between Cher and Amber in taste and
temperament. Their first encounter is a debate in Mr. Halls
class. As if to support her opinion of herself in relation to
Amber, Cher is classically attired in the yellow cardigan and
yellow plaid pleated skirt we see her choose in the opening of
the film. Amber is rather overdone with a formfitting jacket and
hair fillet both trimmed in black feathers. The clue to the
similarity in taste comes when Cher goes to a party in the San
Fernando Valley wearing a wrap with black feather trim. At that
same party, Tai (Harriet) notices that Amber is wearing a red
dress identical to one Cher wore to school earlier in the week.
As for temperament, in their various encounters both Cher and
Amber resort to the mindless "put down"
phrases"As if," "Whatever" and
"Hello!so common in the speech of mid-1990s American
teens.

In our view, Heckerling has done the superior job of
illuminating this dimension of similarity between Emma/Mrs. Elton
and Cher/Amber.

Where Is "Dear Jane" Anyway?

The Jane Fairfax of Glenister/Constanduros (1972) is for the
most part a spirited, resolute woman who stands up for herself as
best she can against the pushy Mrs. Elton and keeps a demure
distance from the less raucous but equally aggressive Emma. She
even goes so far on one occasion as to shout at Miss Bates in the
company of others. She is certainly a character whose presence is
felt. As might be expected, this longer "mini-series"
includes more about this essential supporting character than the
other films, but there are peculiar changes. As in the source,
Frank inadvertently talks of Perrys carriage. In this
version, the camera is used intriguingly here to focus both on
Janes embarrassed reaction and Mr. Knightleys
thoughtful expression, but foregoes the alphabet puzzle game
afterwards, thus failing to show the next clue in the mystery.
Yet another change is even more extraordinary. Inexplicably, Jane
is not present on the trip to Box Hill (nor, in fact, is Mr.
Elton) and no reference is made to their absence. While the scene
of Emmas humiliation of Miss Bates unfolds more or less as
Austen wrote it, it cannot have all the same implications without
those two characters. Among such implications are Janes
observation of Franks attentions to Emma and the
conversation between Frank and Jane on unfortunate acquaintances
formed in public places (372-73). Given the overall philosophy
apparent in this lengthy adaptation, it seems an incongruous
decision. It is as if Jane has disappeared at a key moment of her
role, and as if the director and/or writer do not value the
importance of the Jane Fairfax mystery.

McGrath (1996) gives even shorter shrift to the Jane and Frank
subplot and changes their relationship even more than either the
Glenister or Lawrence productions. The characters come over as
rather pale shadows of their novel selves. Film must select and
compress, so the criticism here is not of "time on
screen" but of the reduced consequence of the Jane Fairfax
and Frank Churchill characters and their relationships. Their
mysterious engagement does not seem particularly surprising, as
the subplot of a possible Frank/Emma romance is, from early in
the film, overshadowed by that between Emma and Mr. Knightley,
the development of which rather too quickly becomes a mystery to
no one. Most glaringly, the "blunder" incident is not
featured at all, thus depriving the viewer of any chance to
observe the interaction between Jane and Frank, or the consequent
excursion into Mr. Knightleys thoughts (347-48). Although
Jane is present at Box Hill, she is given very little to say in
response to Mrs. Eltons machinations and the issue of her
plight is quickly dropped. Jane Fairfax seems to be there in body
but not in spirit. As a result of these changes, we feel that
McGrath almost completely violates the spirit of the parallel
mysteries that occupy the very core of the story, and he fails to
replace them with other mysteries as Heckerling does in Clueless.

The 1997 Lawrence/Davies film appears on the surface to be the
version in which the spirit of Jane Fairfax is most clearly
present. A strong, outspoken character, she (almost) gives Mrs.
Elton as good as she gets. Janes comment on the "flesh
trade" rings painfully true in a film version that chooses
to focus on the hardships endured by the servants surrounding
Austens characters. Lawrence visualizes the scene alluded
to in the novel where Jane is seen (here by the farmer Robert
Martin) "wandering about the meadows" (391). In this
version, which features social class issues more strongly than
the others, perhaps it is Robert Martin who is able to identify
with Janes real feelings rather better than Emma does.
Robert Martin belongs to that emerging class in
nineteenth-century English society comprising neither servants
nor people of property. Jane Fairfax seems, at this point in the
story, set to enter that same group.

Lawrence and Davies have clearly decided that Jane is an
interesting character who deserves to be strongly featured. The
clues to the Jane/Frank mystery are mostly there, while the story
does not bludgeon us with the Emma/Mr. Knightley romance as the
McGrath version does. The Lawrence/Davies film features the
alphabet puzzle game, combined with the Box Hill outing, in a
most acceptable use of cinematic compression. The viewer has the
chance to observe the interaction between Frank and Jane,
particularly her discomfort at being passed the "Dixon"
anagram. She also most forcefully expresses the feelings of
Austens Jane Fairfax regarding an acquaintance formed in a
public place, with the observation that "only the weakest of
characters would allow it to become an oppression forever."
Lawrence/Daviess Jane is a tough character, and the viewer
sees the trouble and pain she is forced to endure in her
unfortunate situation. This is a memorable Jane Fairfax, not the
shadow of a character.

Heckerlings previously mentioned "alphabet puzzle
approach" to events also applies to the characters, who are
divided up and rearranged. Presumably, this is no
"blunder" on Heckerlings part, but an inspired
contemporary use of elements of Austens story. In addition
to the obvious character parallels between the novel and this
film, other characters who at first glance do not seem to belong
in the original Emma, on closer observation possess
characteristics of one or more of Austens creations. Miss
Taylor/Mrs. Weston is sometimes represented by Miss
Geistobvious parallels being that she is Chers
teacher and the object of her matchmaking. Dionne is also part of
Mrs. Weston. She is Chers closest friend, a little older
and more knowledgeable in the ways of the world as the story
begins, already with a settled partner. By implication Murray
then represents a second face of Mr. Weston. The close
relationship that the two have with Cher, resembling that of Emma
with the Westons, would seem to support this claim. It is Murray
who breaks the news to Cher of Christians homosexuality
when the three are out driving together, a scene reminiscent of
the moment in the novel when Mr. Weston fetches Emma to Randalls
to hear Franks "secret" from his wife.

Among the observations about Clueless has been the loss
of the character of Jane Fairfax, due to the changing of Frank
Churchills "secret" into his gayness. Although Clueless
does not offer an obvious parallel, Jane is there, and she
does have her Frank. Their romance is very much alive in Dionne
and Murray at various points in the Clueless story. As the
story begins, Dionne is already somewhat sexually experienced,
although she is "technically a virgin." This would seem
to be an appropriate contemporary equivalent of someone with a
secret attachment to a man such as Frank Churchill. Nicholas
Preus argues that Frank and Jane represent the
"secret," less acceptable side of sexuality in
Austens story while Emma and Mr. Knightley represent the
"public" acceptable face of sexuality. His analysis
would hold true in an interpretation of Murray and Dionne as
Frank and Jane. The obvious difference from Emma would be
that Dionne and Murrays relationship is known to everyone
in the community, but we would argue that the true nature of that
relationship is not always seen. In a very revealing moment in
the film, Cher reflects on the good points of all her friends. Of
Dionne and Murray she says, "When they think no one else is
watching, [they] are so considerate of each other." Just as
with Jane and Frank, what we tend to see on the outside is a lack
of affection, even insults. Observing the "cheap K-Mart hair
extension" reportedly found by Dionne in the back of his
car, Murray comments, "That looks like one of your stringy
something-or-others that you got up here . . . ," reminding
us of Franks attack on Janes hairstyle (222). Dionne
responds by accusing him of "jeeping," revealing the
kind of jealousy Jane suffered at Franks persistent
attentions towards Emma, particularly at Box Hill, and providing
further illustration of Murray and Dionne as representatives of
the less acceptable side of sexuality in the story. Numerous
other scenes, including the haircut at the Val party where, much
to Murrays horror, Dionne threatens to call his mother
(a.k.a. Mrs. Churchill?) suggest Jane/Frank incidents in the
novel.

Miss Geists marriage to a character who functions as one
of the Mr. Weston parallels (Mr. Hall) shifts from the beginning
to the end of the story. This change, in part, gives Cher (Emma)
a bit more credit than Josh (Mr. Knightley) has done earlier in
the story. The device also allows the story to end with the
happiness of a wedding. Austens three younger couples are
happily united at the end, with Murray and Dionne as Frank and
Jane at this point, and they even discuss weddings. Dionnes
"naval" wedding motif may well be an allusion to
sailing at Weymouth. However, weddings for these three couples
must, necessarily, be future tense as Heckerling has made them
teenagers, and as Cher says, "As if! Im only 16, and
this is California, not Kentucky."

What Becomes of Harriet?

The possibility of a future relationship between the Martins
of Abbey Mill Farm and the Knightleys of Hartfield is
illustrative of the fact that all the period adaptations change
the clear social boundaries at the end of Emma. Austen
does not violate the social conventions she herself so clearly
embraced. As Mark Parker has argued, the social limits are firmly
enforced in Austen. Of Robert Martin, Mr. Knightley says,
"His rank in society I would alter if I could; which
is saying a great deal I assure you, Emma" (472-73).
At the same time, Emma is not troubled by the "fact that the
intimacy between her (Harriet) and Emma must sink . . . "
(482). Clearly, gentleman farmer and tenant farmer will not be
social friends in the Austen future.

If the makers of the period adaptations were aware of this
point, they chose to overlook it, or purposely violated the
Austen sensibility in favor of more contemporary social
attitudes. The Glenister/Constanduros film makes the mildest
departure from Austen. Harriet brings Mr. Martin to be received
at Hartfield, where Emma warmly invites him to visit again. The
McGrath and Lawrence /Davies films depart much more
substantially. In the penultimate scene of the McGrath film,
Harriet visits Emma to tell her of her betrothal to Mr. Martin,
and the two women embrace warmly with every suggestion of a
continuing intimacy. Emma also turns to kiss Harriet in the
ultimate wedding scene of this film. The Lawrence/Davies film has
a similar warm encounter between Emma and Harriet and a rather
remarkable cinematic coda in which the three betrothed couples
dance together at a harvest festival with this films Mr.
Knightley virtually playing the incipient democrat (albeit
pledging "stability"). Meanwhile, Emma, upon her formal
introduction to Robert Martin, warmly takes his hand and invites
him to bring both Harriet and his sister to Hartfield soon.

Perhaps the rigid class distinctions of Regency England would
be too much for a general film audience in contemporary
democratic English speaking societies to handle. Clearly, the
film-makers either did not feel the need to preserve this feature
of the society they were depicting or simply didnt want to
make the effort to leave viewers with much sympathy for
characters who remained so firmly class conscious. The
Lawrence/Davies movie even suggests this unwillingness by placing
the only remaining class snobbishness squarely with the already
disliked Eltons, who express dismay at "sitting down with
hobbledyhoys."

The Heckerling film, by contrast, seems to resolve the
relationship between Cher and Tai (Emma and Harriet) in a manner
that is in keeping with the spirit of both the adaptation and of
Jane Austen. In Clueless, behavioral propriety rather than
class distinction is foremost. Tais initial romantic
interest, Travis, was unacceptable in Chers circle because
he was a "loadie," (a regular user of marijuana). Near
the end of the film, Cher learns that Travis has joined a
twelve-step group in order to change, and she accepts his
invitation to a skateboard competition. In the social context of Clueless,
there was no class reason to scorn Travis, only a behavioral one.
That barrier having been removed, Cher may welcome him into her
circle.

At least one other aspect of the continuing character of
Austens Emma is worthy of note at this point. The narrator
presents this bit of information, "she [Emma] had no sooner
an opportunity of being one hour alone with Harriet, than she
became perfectly satisfiedunaccountable as it
was!that Robert Martin had thoroughly supplanted Mr.
Knightley . . . " (481). Given the competition for Mr.
Knightleys affections that Emma had feared, there can be no
doubt that Emma is delighted to have won. None of the period
adaptations makes this "victory" clear, while Clueless
does. Cher encounters Tai at the skateboard meet. The two hug
and make up and then cheer Travis on. Cher is delighted when she
sees "sparks" fly between Tai and Travis. She is happy
for them, but her main reason (given by the first person
narrator) is that it means Tai is no competition for Josh. Cher
has won.

The contemporary setting of Heckerlings adaptation has
the advantage of allowing Cher to avoid Emmas
class-consciousness, while permitting Cher to parallel
Emmas superior sense of self in other respects.
Emotionally, Cher behaves very like Emma. Given the resolution of
Chers relationship with Tai that is so well in line with
the feelings and character of Emma, we posit that Clueless
is truer to the spirit of the novel than the period adaptations.

Parting Shots

The above discussion provides the basis for at least some
preliminary responses to the initial question of how these four
films encourage the viewer to reengage the novel and how well
they reflect the spirit of their source.

The Glenister/Constanduros film (1972) is the least
interesting of the four. It does what a film isnt
particularly necessary for: it tells the story of Emma and
not much more. As our discussion suggests, it neither distorts
its source enough to distress anyone unduly (except perhaps at
the exclusion of Jane Fairfax at Box Hill and the alphabet puzzle
game), nor extends the characters in directions that send anyone
scrambling back to Austen to explore ideas. One distressing (if
not surprising) aspect of this film is that it is rather
"male oriented." The male characters tend to have
principal focus in their scenes, the concentration on the
fretting by Mr. Woodhouse being a good example. There is even
some superfluous "good old boy" chatting between men in
at least one scene. This aspect of the film is perhaps the one
area in which this film warrants further scrutiny.

The McGrath film (1996) is perhaps the prettiest and most
cinematically clever of the four. Its technique of using verbal
and visual segues between key scenes is a notable use of
cinematic compression. Nevertheless, this discussion has shown
that characterization is too one dimensional or capricious. The
viewer is encouraged to see Harriet as a continuing friend of
Emma, to like Emma and dislike Mrs. Elton, and to overlook Jane
Fairfax. All these considerably violate the spirit of Austen. In
addition, the stance here has been parallel to that of Deborah
Kaplans claim that the film over-romanticizes the
Emma-Knightley relationship. Kaplans analysis, however,
derails because she argues only that the film trivializes Emma.
The argument here that the film eviscerates the novel seems more
to the point. Among other problems, the elements of mystery are
gone, and the film also shoves Jane Fairfax into a relatively
insignificant corner. This is an enjoyable movie but not an
adaptation that asks the viewer to engage Austen at all
seriously.

The Lawrence/Davies film (1997) is perhaps the most important
of the period adaptations. Even though this discussion has
criticized the film for violating the spirit of Emma, the
very fact of what the film adds makes it worthy of further
investigation. As suggested above, the film raises questions
about the lives of characters who rarely, if ever, appear in the
pages of Austenthe servants. A corollary to this is the
"democratization" of some of the characters. Andrew
Davies, whose screenplays are often controversial, has said he
particularly relishes adapting Austen. He claims that
"there's {sic} always some hidden scenes in the book that
Austen didn't get around to writing herself, and it's nice to
fill in some of the little gaps." In addition to raising the
questions for further study, Davies's vision of what is between
the lines gives this film some of its visually better moments,
such as several scenes which elaborate Austen's characterization
of Emma as an "imaginist" (335).

This discussion has suggested that Amy Heckerlings
mid-1990s treatment of the story of Emma shows that Heckerling
has a great affinity for Jane Austen. The rearranging of events
and characters in the form of mysteries parallel to those of
Austen in Emma is evidence of this claim. The film can
encourage the Emma-familiar viewer to explore dimensions
of character such as the similarity between Emma and Mrs. Elton,
which the viewer might have overlooked before. Almost every
viewing of the film generates further questions of interest about
the novel, which is perhaps the greatest compliment to an early
nineteenth-century writer from the film-viewing public at the
turn of the twenty-first. To give just one example: this
films setting in a contemporary society whose characters
are affluent, over-burdened with leisure, self-absorbed, and
parochial encourages the viewer to explore parallels with the
society Austen depicted. If Austen showed us the beginnings of
contemporary "commercial" society, perhaps Clueless
asks viewers to contemplate the seeds of its demise two centuries
later.

Works Cited

Austen, Jane. Emma. Ed. R. W. Chapman. 3rd ed.
Oxford: OUP, 1933.

Heckerling, Amy. Harold Lloyd Seminars of the
American Film Institute. AFI Online, September 14,
1995.